


Keep Calm and Belly Dance

by nerdlife4eva



Series: The Domestic Life and Love of Yuuri and Victor [17]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Belly Dancing, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Love, M/M, Phichit Chulanont is a Little Shit, Post-Canon, Sexual Humor, Teasing, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 19:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/pseuds/nerdlife4eva
Summary: Phichit and Chris sign the group up for belly dancing lessons, including providing all of them with outfits. Yuuri is surprisingly good, Victor is smitten, and Yurio wants to throw down like it is Sochi Dance Battle 2.0.Part of YuuriWeek2017 and the wonderful companion art for this piece was created by the incredibly talentedMagical-MistralPlease go check out all the amazing art this artist has to offer!!





	Keep Calm and Belly Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magical_mistral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magical_mistral/gifts).



Magical-Mistral on Tumblr!! (Link above!!)

 

“Every time you say you have a great idea,” Yuuri said, sliding into a pair of billowy pants, “I end up wearing something ridiculous.” Next to him, Phichit burst out laughing, shaking his own hips to hear the bells jingle.

“There is…” Victor trailed off, circling his arms around Yuuri’s bare waist, “absolutely nothing ridiculous about this!” Wide blue eyes met Yuuri’s brown ones in the mirror making Yuuri flush. “Phichit... Chris…” Victor whined, “this has to be your best idea of all time.”

“Better than the pole dancing?” Chris spoke from his spot at the back of the room, his own pants sitting indecently low on his hips. Unlike Phichit and Yuuri, Chris had foregone the need for a shirt, letting the rest of his body remain bare. “I believe it was our dear friend Phichit who encouraged the lessons and we both know who got your man on that pole at Sochi.” Moving forward Chris slung a casual arm over Phichit’s shoulders, pausing to pose for Phichit’s camera. “You two,” Chris flicked a finger at Phichit and Yuuri, requesting them to position for a picture.

Reluctantly, Yuuri raised his arms as Phichit cheerfully mirrored him. The pink on his cheeks was unavoidable as he registered his own costumed appearance in the mirror. Before he had time to over-analyze the cropped top and loose pants, Victor was wrapped around him again, preparing to snap a selfie.

“I regret everything,” Yurio muttered under his breath, making Otabek snicker.

Nudging his best friend with an elbow, Otabek attempted to secure his own bizarrely small shirt over his back. “You were the one who convinced me to come. I want that on the record.”

Rolling his eyes, Yurio pulled the buttons together on the back of Otabek’s shirt before shoving him forward. “Whatever, someone has to protect me from…” Yurio stopped walking and flailed his arms at Victor who had wrapped both arms and one leg completely around a bright red Yuuri. “WHAT THE HELL. YOU CAN’T DANCE LIKE THAT!” His indignation made the entire room laugh, and Victor gave a shameless shrug before finally releasing his fiancé.

In the front of the room was a very patient instructor, a man easily in his late thirties who was built out of solid muscle and tantalizingly curved hips. He watched the group of professional skaters with amusement, arms crossed over his chest as pictures were posed for and teasing jabs were tossed back and forth. Finally deciding to start class, he clapped his hands twice to gain their attention.

Yuuri was the first to comply with the implied command, pulling his back up straight and looking at the instructor to wait for direction. Bumping his hip to the side, he tried to encourage Victor to give him a little bit of space. Concentrating was going to be hard enough with Victor’s gorgeous body draped in barely-there blue fabric, Yuuri did not need the extra distraction of Victor’s skin against his own. A distracted Yuuri was a clumsy Yuuri, and he had no desire to fall flat on his face.

To Yuuri’s left, Phichit and Chris lined up next to each other, still giggling and shaking their hips to create jingling noises. Behind Victor and Yuuri were Yurio and Otabek, both looking only mildly interested in what was happening in the room. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri tried to concentrate on the demonstration being given by the man who made a profession out of this skilled art.

It was harder to see due to his glasses being stowed on the back window ledge, but Yuuri squinted to make out the skilled dancer’s steps. Interpreting the moves without music, Yuuri began to move his hips, keeping his hands in raised position to mimic the instructor’s pose. His focus became tunneled, keeping time with the other man’s hips and forgetting about the others in the room. When the music clicked on, Yuuri barely registered its existence.

“How the hell is he so good at this?” Yurio snarled, glaring at Yuuri’s back. “What does he secretly belly dance on the weekends too?” He shot an angry scowl at Otabek’s chuckle. “What are you doing?” Confusion and shock were laced through Yurio’s voice as he gaped at Otabek.

In the name of his reputation, Otabek was moving in a box-like circle, hands clamped on his hips and brow furrowed. “Stupid bangles,” he muttered, flicking at the silver hoops hanging from the waist of his pants, “who needs swirly hips anyway?” 

Yurio snorted and then snapped his attention back to Yuuri who was now receiving personal attention from their teacher. Victor was looking slightly red around the ears as the older man complimented Yuuri’s movements. Competitive spirit flaring, Yurio pushed forward to stand next to Yuuri.

Victor grunted as he was displaced, stepping back to stand next to Otabek. Tilting his head, Victor grinned at his fiancé’s backside. “Joke's on you, kitten!” Victor taunted, “the view is better from back here!” Slipping his phone from his pocket, Victor recorded a video of Yuuri’s exquisitely twirling butt.

Yuuri spotted Victor in the wall-length mirror and blushed all the way to his hairline. Trying to regain his focus, he was thrown off again he felt a hand shove at his right arm.

“Pig! I’m better at this than you!” Yurio stepped to face Yuuri and began aggressively shaking his hips.

He was definitely not drunk enough to belly dance battle Yurio in the middle of a studio while wearing harem pants. Panicking, Yuuri glanced around the room looking for help. Chris and Phichit were laughing uncontrollably as they rolled their bodies in overly lewd fashion, even making their instructor look flustered. Whatever moves they were attempting to effectuate where only effective in presenting their ill-concealed lower halves in rapid succession. Blush growing deeper, Yuuri snapped back to Yurio who was still antagonistically wiggling directly in front of him.

“Scared old man?” Yurio flicked his hip in Yuuri’s direction.

Feeling the rush of competitiveness flow through him, Yuuri narrowed his eyes and began to move. He let his body loose on instinct, hips swirling and dropping in perfect rhythm.

Leaning heavily onto Otabek’s shoulder, Victor put a hand over his heart. “What does a heart attack feel like?” Yuuri spun himself in a circle before moving into an elegant version of a squat, only to spring back up and rapidly bounce only his right hip. Groaning, Victor slapped at his own chest. “I’m dead,” he declared, “this is heaven. Yuuri is my dancing angel.”

Otabek looked alarmed. Yurio was bright red in the face, hair now plastered to his forehead as he attempted to keep up with Yuuri. He was unwillingly supporting Victor, the swooning becoming elevated in both volume and embarrassment level. This was definitely not what Otabek had signed up for and his face was conveying every word of that thought.

“What’s the matter, Yurio?” With an extended arm, Yuuri flicked Yurio’s nose. “Can’t keep up with this old man?” Laughing, Yuuri winked before taking a step back and winding his hips all the way down to the floor.

Yuuri’s wind back to a standing position nearly killed Victor. Grabbing back at his phone, Victor gave up on dancing and leaned against the wall to hit record. There was a special folder where the banquet files still remained, and this video was being saved directly there. The entire file was labeled with a single, very appropriate, eggplant.

“WHAT THE HELL!” Yurio yelled as Yuuri stood with one pointed toe flexed on the ground and rolled his belly from front to back in controlled waves. “You are not human!” Spitting in defeat, Yurio gave one final shove to Yuuri’s chest.

Laughing, Yuuri stumbled backwards being caught by Victor. Twisting around, he found himself being kissed into muffled oblivion. The sounds of the others whistling and catcalling, mixed with Yurio’s swearing broke them apart with exploding laughter. “I’m not done with you,” Victor whispered against Yuuri’s ear, “how is it you keep surprising me, my Yuuri?”

His face burned almost as much as his abdominal muscles. It had been more fun than doing a thousand sit ups and running up flights of stairs. The last time Yuuri had this much enjoyment in a workout had been in Detroit and involved chairs and poles. Placing a hand on his stomach, Yuuri felt the tired ripple of his muscles.

Much to Victor’s delight, this definitely would not be their last belly dancing class.  


End file.
